Confessions of A Something
by Hikari of Hearts
Summary: She was perfect. He was far from it. She was popular. He was a world class dork. She was a cheerleader. He wasn't much of anything, really. But he was willing to become ANYTHING for her to love him. Ahh, what a refreshing deathwish! My stab at clicheness.
1. You Define Me

Confession # One: Once, I tripped in an elevator, and I wasn't even moving.

Confession # Two: I am constantly craving pickles and ice cream, and my mom always asks me if I've been abducted.

Confession # Three: My evil 9 year old sister has had more boyfriends than I girlfriends. Strike that, I haven't even HAD a girl friend.

Confession # Four: The class losers rejected me, saying I'd tarnish their reputation.

Confession # Five: I am in love with the school's most popular girl...

Confessions of A...Something.

-(A Prologue)-

**SORA'S SIDE**

Now, most people would call it an unhealthy obsession. And, yeah, I might just agree with them, just a little bit. But really, if you get down to it, down to core, right past all those annoying "loopholes" and hormones it really is just one thing.

PATHETIC.

I have liked--no, strike that, LOVED this girl since PRESCHOOL. But who doesn't? Like I said, she's the most popular girl in the school. The guys practically worship her, and the girls hate her, but pretend they admire and honor her perfection.

Which brings me to my philosophy. Guys are all retarted, and girls are all evil.

Well, all girls except Kairi. She seems to shine at everything she does, seems to tackle every feat and task thrown at her, and come out on top. She is perfect, almost too perfect to be real. In the fourth grade, I pulled her hair just so I could see if there were sockets in the back of her head. I just couldn't believe that someone that flawless could exist.

But she oh, she does. And let me tell you, it has put me through the ringer.

Example? Well, once, when I was in 6th grade, at the young age of 11, I wasn't very aware of myself. You know, the fact that I was, and am the world's biggest loser. And I was going through a "confident" stage ("You are better than a cockroach!"), so I decided to slip a single red rose into her locker, with a note that said "With Love, Sora". Well, unfortunately, I didn't check my resources when someone told me her locker number. I put it in 114 instead of 115. And, you know, being extremely unlucky, this was Riku's locker.

He could throw quite a punch. And kick. And jab. As an excuse for my rotten banana-like appearance, I told my mom that I had fallen into a dictionary. Reasoning was another trait I lacked at 11.

Another delightful little instance. Just this year, in fact, I got hog-tied to a pinnata and battered around by the football team, because I accidentally tripped Kairi when I was just trying to retrieve her pink sparkly pencil. But no, they didn't leave it at that. After literally beating the candy stuffing out of me, Riku charmed the student secretary, got the key to the plexi-glass-cased bulletin board, and shut me in there for 3 periods. Why did no one stop him? The teachers were all at a luncheon, completely unaware that the boy named...whats-his-face was having the blood slowly drained out of his head.

And even through the flowers, the notes, the schemes, the pawns, EVERYTHING! I have nothing to show for after 12 long years of rejection.

But I swore to himself, as my mom drove me up to the school, that this year would be different. Too bad I didn't even believe myself...

Author's Note/ Man! That was short. But after coming back after like, what a year? I decided that the reason I quit fanfiction was because I wasn't able to enjoy it anymore. I was too worried that it was never good enough for anyone else. So now, I am turning over a new leaf. I will stop when it's good enough for me. I won't look at word count, but at the content, and when I feel the chapter is complete. Thankyou, all of you, for your patience.


	2. You Ignore Me

Confession # One: The worst thing I have ever done in my life is steal a french fry off of a stranger's plate.

Confession # Two: I am allergic to all forms of ink.

Confession # Three: My body parts are pretty much mismatched. For instance, one of my ears sticks out more than the other, one eye is wider than the other, making me look seriously deranged when I first wake up, and one of my female "assets" is a different cup size altogether.

Confession # Four: I have to wear headgear at night.

Confession # Five: Everyone in my school thinks my life is perfect. And trust me. It's not…

Confessions of A...Something.

(-prologue part two-)

**KAIRI'S SIDE**

No matter how hard I try, I'm really never good enough for my parents. You're probably rolling your eyes and saying "Oh please.", but it's true! I mean, whenever I do something, whether it be mix a smoothie or win state for my cheer squad, it will never be as well deserved as my dear sister, at least in their eyes.

And even though they still pat me on the head and order the housekeeper to give me a extra slice of pie, it really isn't the same. Because when my sister does these things, their eyes light up with pride, they hug her and call all of their friends to brag about what a wonderful job their wonderful daughter did with her wonderful life.

And you would think, growing up being second best, would really get to a person. And you wouldn't be far from right. It's the typical woe, straight out of the movies.

"No matter what I do, my sister's done it already. If I've gone to the Keyes, she's been to Hawaii, if I've baked a muffin, she's baked a pie!"

Except, this movie is real. And that's the most depressing part. Because really, people think my life is like a movie. You know, perfect. But I can never really put myself in that mindset. _I am perfect._ It's more like, _Be perfect, be perfect, and finally win!_

But I really can never accomplish that. Perfection, I mean. But I sure as hell have tried. And boy is it exhausting!

When I was five years old, that was the first time I ever acknowledged someone call me perfect. And honestly, when I complained to them that some one made fun of me in my class, I didn't realize it would start 8 years of hard work.

"_Oh, honey, I bet you're going to grow up perfect, just like your sister!"_

That word, that would dominate my life, confused me. I fanned through the pages of my parent's dictionary, and glued my eyes to what lay below them.

Perfect. 1 a : being entirely without fault or defect : FLAWLESS a perfect diamond b : satisfying all requirements

As I read over the words sprawled across the page, (and having to look up some of them too) I realized that this was what people wanted of me. This was why I felt so inferior to the people around me. I was not perfect.

And so, I strived to reach a new height of perfection. I studied until my eyes burned; I packed my own lunches every night, making sure the proportions were exactly accurate, and completely healthy. My closet was a sea of cardigans, skirts, and blouses, and there was a line of shiny black ballet flats all sitting in a long skinny container against my wall. My hair was always pulled tight, half up and half down, with a ribbon that matched my skirt. If there was a competition, I would enter, and win. If there was a trend, I knew about it first. If there was a fight, I would be the one to settle it. I fed off those around me, absorbing everyone's idea of perfection, and molded myself into that opinion.

However, when I started junior high, the idea of perfection changed. No longer was it sweater vests and red shiny apples on the teacher's desk. It was white gold necklaces; Ugg boots, short skirts, and make up. I picked up every teen magazine, and over night, my image changed. I became head cheerleader, ran for class president and won, and charmed the teachers with my grades and my smile.

But every time I spoke, my parent's eyes would glaze over. Every time I called their attention, they wouldn't look up from their papers. Every time I came home crying, they simply shrugged it off and said I would want to be alone.

Their approval was, and is all that matters to me. It sounds weird coming from a teenager, but everyday I wake up, and my instant thought is "How can I impress them today?"

That is, until I met him.


	3. You Falsify Me

Confession # Six: In the 2nd grade, I was awarded with my first pair of boxer shorts. Too bad I thought they were _real _shorts. My nick name that year was Buddy Boxer.

Confession # Seven: I used to think flip flops were called…a part of the girls…anatomy. For 2 years I wondered why the lady at Gap had burst out laughing when I asked her to find me guy's camel toes. Ughhh.

Confession # Eight: My cousins always send over hand-me-downs for me. And the sad thing is I actually look good in miniskirts.

Confession # Nine: I got married to a Labrador at recess in Kindergarten.

Confession # Ten: At the last school dance, some one spiked my punch and I spent the entire night shimmying and doing the conga with our P.E. teacher, Mrs. Poulac.

Confessions Of A…Something.

(-You Ignore Me-)

**SORA'S SIDE**

Last year, everyone's locker got a note from the Paopu Press. It was the weekly poll. It read…

**Hey Powerful Paopus!**

**This week's poll has been sponsored by Ansem's Hair Salon. (Get sleek long hair in one tortu…err…appointment!)**

**What do you think about?**

**Sports**_  
_**Homework**  
**Reality T.V.  
Gossip  
The Mall**

**Please chose one of the following and turn it in to the Paopu Press' print shop!**

When I found it in my locker, I really couldn't vote on any of the choices. Because, the only thing I thought, and think about…is Kairi.

Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi Kairi—

Shut up brain! I swear, it's like on hyper mode. I don't even really know why I love her so much. Idolism? Insanity? Insecurity?

Maybe it's because…she's everything I ever wanted to be. Every day I think…just maybe, maybe if I am with her, I will feel like I'm actually right.

Not gawky. Not hopeless.

Just…right.

Oh crap. No more time for insightful thinking. The peppy ninja from hell, (often referred to as Yuffie) has made a direct bee line for me.

Remember when I told you about the incident involving Riku, a rose, and a bruised banana? Well, she was my brilliant resource. Ever since I asked her about the locker, she has glued to me like a puppy with a fetish for hopeless youth.

"Hey Sora!" my so called "friend" chippered in her chippery sort of way. "Guess what, last night I decapitated a caterpillar! I played out that it was Marie Antoinette and I even put a bit of cake next to it. Then I took some pill bugs and I made them all stand around my little wooden guillotine grandpa got me for Christmas!"

There was a long stretch of silence.

What does that poor girl think about?

"What would happen if someone got their finger stuck up their nose?"

Right. That type of thing.

The bell rang, signaling the beginning of the first day of school. Yuffie pulled the straps of her backpack and fixed me with a beady stare.

"Sora…you promised." She raised her eye brows, her eyes glancing down at my jeans.

"What? Oh…OH. Right. About that…"

I trailed off. At the beginning of the summer, to get her from tailing his ass everywhere, I promised to throw away "the pants". I saw no problem with them. Sure, they were torn in some places, and yeah, there were paint and grass stains permanently set it, but they were fine, at least in my opinion.

"Sora…" Her eyes narrowed, and she placed her hands on her hips. "Don't make me make drastic measures. And I you know I will."

"I can't Yuffie!" I wailed, in sort of a girly way, I commented to myself. "They're the only ones I have!"

The next thing, Yuffie had pounced me. We struggled on the floor, she trying to rip the pants off of me, and me trying to push her off.

"Give them…to me…you promised…" She scrambled, grabbing the cuffs and yanking them. However, since the floors had been recently waxed, I simply slid across the floor, my chin scraping against rubble, dirt, and pencil shavings. But then the world stopped.

Kairi was walking down the hallway, her hair fanning behind her, a pleasant, but slightly bored expression fixed upon her face. Yuffie seemed to realize that I had stopped struggling, and dropped my legs to the floor. I stood up almost feverishly, and straightened jeans.

And then, the most miraculous thing happened.

She looked at me.

At first, it was just a glance, but her gaze doubled back, and a look of slight incredulity and amusement overcame her. Her head snapped back as one of her friends addressed her. She laughed, and continued to walk on. I slammed against the lockers, and slid down.

Wow. Since when did that happen? And it wasn't like anything normal. She wasn't gazing around, looking for someone. It had been directed at me.

"Yuffie…she…she…looked at me."

"Err…Sora? You might want to have a look in the mirror." Yuffie suppressed a laugh, and handed him her make up mirror.

My chin was completely brown, making me look as if I was trying to fake the hint of a beard.

"Damn it!"

**Author's Corner**

Thank you, thank you, and thank you again!

Truly, your reviews mean so much to me. The first time I start to write for myself people start to review. Ironic, isn't it? Sorry this chapter was a bit short, but I wanted to end on that line. Poor Sora. Thank you for bearing with me. I realize this plot is very cliché, but I'm enjoying writing it, because I've never really done this before. Constructive criticism is really nice to receive. I thank all of those who sent me the truth, politely.

Infrared Rayz: Yes, I realize the plot's cliché. But that's the joy of fan fiction. High school plots. If you look at my other stories, you will notice that they are not of the high school genre, so maybe you will enjoy them more.

Sinister hope: Thank you! I just wish I had read that earlier. Seriously, spread your message to all struggling writers. It was very nice to hear that some one was going through the same thing.

Co-cho: Why fanks. Extra brownie points to the caps. I love an enthusiastic reviewer.

Casey: I'm really glad some one laughed. Whenever that happens to me, I feel very appreciative to the author for writing something funny. I never thought I'd be one of them. It's very flattering.

Rikkamugen: I can understand why some people hate Kairi. (Although I don't count myself among them) I'm glad that it didn't ruin the story for you.

Jenn: Why thank you.

Lackthereof: I'm glad that the cliché-ness wasn't killing the plot. Yeah, I was tired of seeing Sora as some pimp. So I made him the opposite.

Maiakins: Yes…I am rather mean to Sora, aren't I? Don't worry; he will get his slice of pie. Here's your update!

**Oh, and I'm running out of ideas to put as the confessions. Suggest some, and maybe you'll see them pop up in my story. (With full credit to you up by the disclaimer, of course.) Thank you!**


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